They Had to Scrape Me Off the Floor
by Ly Merrick
Summary: A late night knock at the door. Quinn is sad, but Rachel didn't expect to be the person she ran to.
1. Plying Heavy Oars

**Title: **They Had to Scrape Me Off the Floor

**Pairing: **Rachel/Quinn

**Synopsis: **A late night knock at the door.

**Author's Note: **I'm trying to force myself back into the discipline I once had, where, even if it was just fanfiction, I wrote something at least a few times a month despite my ongoing issues with depression. And as I've already covered my other stories for this month, I wanted to write a three part one-shot for my Faberry readers, since they're by far the longest and most loyal readers I've had on Tumblr and FFnet. So here you go. Lyrics by The Weepies, from their song, "Stars." Also, just so my Faberrians know, I haven't killed any of my Faberry WIPs. I just don't currently have a lot of time or access to a computer the way I used to. They'll all be finished.

###

**1. Plying Heavy Oars**

_Tangerines are hanging heavy, glowing marigolden hues _

_Teasing a half-pale moon_

_And I feel a pull to the blue-velvet dark and stars._

Knocks on the door. It wasn't frequently that Rachel Berry had visitors, mostly because despite her success as a vocalist in Glee club, she still didn't have a typical booming social life or anything. That's why it was so odd to hear frantic knocking at the front door, particularly considering that it was 1:34 in the morning and her fathers were dead asleep. She'd watched too many horror movies obviously because she found herself a little afraid to answer the door.

Downstairs, there was more frantic knocking and her fathers' bedroom door clicked open. Padding footsteps retreated away from Rachel's range of hearing; she slipped out of bed and headed down the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes, sleep-swollen lips poking out a little in confusion as she squinted around the corner.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Berry," there was a sort of breaking sob. "I know it's late."

"It's very late, young lady," Leroy hummed with disapproval, "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Honey? Who's at the door?" Hiram called down the hallway.

"It's - I'm - god, I shouldn't even be here."

"You're not going to knock on the door this early in the morning and then change your mind," Leroy grumbled, glancing behind him and catching Rachel's gaze. In the process he stepped away from the door and motioned to a familiar, but shadowed figure. "Rachel, I believe this is a friend of yours?"

No, no, they had certainly never considered themselves friends.

Quinn was standing in the doorway, arms folded around herself tightly, looking disheveled and tired.

"What - why are you here?" Rachel moved to the doorway, giving her father an apologetic glance before moving to the doorframe, closer to Quinn, speaking more quietly. "Why are you here at 1:30 in the morning? Why are you here at all?"

Hesitation seemed to be causing Quinn to clam up. She kept opening her mouth as if to speak and pulling at her hair just a little bit. "I didn't know where else to go - who to go to -" Those normally venomous hazel eyes darted away from Rachel's. "I'm so sorry I woke your family but it's - it's about Beth and - "

"This is the -" Leroy's eyes widened a little.

"This is Quinn," Rachel corrected gently.

Quinn bounced her knees, looking around uncomfortably. "Please," she murmured urgently, searching first Rachel and then Leroy.

"Let the girl in! The A/C is running!" Hiram called grumpily down the hallway.

There was a desperate and distraught look to Quinn's expression, something that frightened Rachel. It was the look one might have before they detonated a bomb. "Daddy?" Rachel glanced back at Leroy, reaching a hand forward and grasping Quinn's arm gently.

Leroy sighed, but gave a sympathetic nod. "Please try to be quiet," he warned before squeezing Rachel's shoulder and heading down the hallway, his heavy footsteps retreating from earshot. Rachel guided the blonde inside, her fingers clasped delicately around Quinn's arm.

She was sure to lock the front door and noted the way Quinn seemed to be trembling. She'd never seen the HBIC like this. Of course, she'd seen her when she was confrontational and more rarely when she was vulnerable, but never like this. Delicate, broken, unbearably sad. Quinn followed close behind Rachel, a hand lingering at the back of Rachel's arm as if she was unsure of her ability to walk up the stairs.

"Sit," Rachel spoke softly, her eyes lingering on Quinn's torn jeans and grey, shapeless hoodie. Even her hair was disheveled, stray hairs everywhere. How in the hell did she start this conversation? She felt almost frightened, intimidated by the idea that Quinn would come to _her _in a state of distress - of all people, someone Quinn made no secret of hating.

"My mother's at home, passed out on the couch. There's got to be like six wine bottles she's emptied in the last two days. That's how it always is - and with the way I'm feeling I just - I didn't feel like it was good to be alone right now," Quinn's voice was trembling and the blonde was covering her face with her hands a moment later, her shoulders hunched and her entire posture crowded together as if she were trying to ball herself up.

Rachel sat down carefully, hesitating delicately over Quinn's hair, petting it momentarily before slipping her fingers over the back of her neck and finally the middle of her back. "What's going on?"

"I can't stop thinking about Beth. About my - about giving her up, about getting pregnant in the first place. I feel like - it feels like a death. I can't see her, I can't ever be in her life. She'll grow up with love for a mother that didn't carry her, didn't - I was _kicked out _of my parents house because I couldn't stand the thought of killing my own child. And now I'll never see her again. And they want me to act like - like _nothing happened _and all I can hear is Beth crying for the first time -" Quinn's last few words came out strained, a weak sob breaking from her throat and Quinn collapsed further into herself.

Swallowing, Rachel moved closer, folding one leg beneath herself and doing what felt most natural in the moment. She leaned completely into Quinn, wrapped her arms around the trembling blonde and cradled her close. It felt strange but familiar, right somehow.

"I'm embarassed I'm even here. You of all people should've turned me away but of course you didn't even hesitate - " Soon, heavy, deep sobs were blocking any words that might have come afterward, and Quinn's fingers were fisting, balling up the fabric of Rachel's shirt and Rachel distinctly felt her heart start to break.

Tears stung hotly in her eyes, empathy overwhelming Rachel as she clutched Quinn closely. "I can't imagine the pain you're in, Quinn," she spoke, trying to sound gentle and calm despite the sorrow filling her gut. She wasn't ignorant of Quinn's pain, even when she was cruel, but seeing it play full-force over Quinn's entire countenance was overwhelming.

"I was thinking about stealing my mom's car or just walking - to the dam that's just outside of town, because the current, you know it's - strong enough and it'd just be like tripping and it's far enough that -"

Rachel heard herself gasp subtly, and she held Quinn even tighter, suddenly understanding why she had said she didn't think it was good to be alone. "Jesus, Quinn," Rachel whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and her chin quivering as she pressed her forehead to the side of Quinn's face, hands cupping either side of Quinn's face. "No, _no,_" she insisted, eyes lingering on the intimate view afforded by her proximity: Quinn's eyes squeezed shut and her fingers desperately trying to cover her face in grief and shame. "You - fuck," Rachel whispered even more quietly, rarely swearing but having no words to comfort or even begin to fix this. Still she ducked closely, barely millimeters between their faces, Quinn's gaze blocked by her fingers even as Rachel held the sides of Quinn's face.

"I'm sorry," Quinn sobbed out, sounding so unlike herself that Rachel felt a strange, surreal feeling. "I'm sorry, I know it's not your responsibility I just didn't know who to - "

Rachel shook her head, pulling Quinn against herself again and cradling the back of her head, feeling Quinn's hands slip around her again and hold tight.

The question did linger, though. In Quinn's worst state of grief, she had somehow ended up believing it was Rachel who she needed to go to. It was Rachel - inconsequential and socially inept Rachel. The implications alone confused Rachel, set her off balance. She could've never expected to find herself in this situation, ever, yet here she was hushing gently against Quinn's ear as she rocked her just a little.

"You're not alone now. I won't let you go," Rachel whispered this last part much more softly, against the shell of Quinn's ear; sifting fingers through the stray bits of Quinn's hair, she waited until the heavy sobbing subsided. "Can I tell you something? Or are you in the kind of pain where you don't want to hear my encouragement?"

Quinn shook her head, still shamefully averting her eyes away from Rachel's. "Tell me," her words still came in small, violent sobs, but she seemed calmer now.

"You did the right thing. I know that in your heart you know this. You know that giving Beth up meant giving her the best chance and - if it helps, even though it took some time, I came to terms with my mother's decision. Beth will one day want to see you, will understand what you did. She's just a baby now, but one day she'll be a reasoning, educated young woman who had a shot at life because her mother - her real mother - cared enough, was _unselfish _enough to give her the best she could. You cared enough to give her a chance at something more than mediocrity and struggle." Rachel didn't even know if it was the right thing to say, didn't know how to talk someone away from that dark edge, but she knew that her heart was aching and her eyes still burned with sympathetic tears. "And she can't come to you if you aren't here for her to come to," she finished in barely a whisper, pressing her forehead to Quinn's temple, fingers loosing from strands of hair and cupping Quinn's jaw, resting just above her neck and stroking there. It seemed the most natural action in the world; somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel felt shivers crawling across her flesh as she saw the way Quinn's eyes fluttered shut, breath exhaling from her throat at Rachel's comfort.

"I'm terrified. I've never felt - I've never wanted to hurt myself, not like this. I was - so close and it's so terrifying to think I could even _want _to do that to myself, Rachel," Quinn trembled, shivering still. "I was so close. I don't want to, I don't," Quinn asserted in a panicked voice.

"Quinn," Rachel spoke a bit more firmly than she had been, gently forcing Quinn to look at her. "Look - you need to breathe. You're probably having some kind of panic attack on top of these feelings you're having, so I need you to try to stay with me."

The blonde nodded, eyes darting away again, tears filling them. Her pink lips separated as she drew in long, even breaths and held it for just a few seconds longer.

"Good, breathe out longer," Rachel coached gently, stroking Quinn's cheek delicately while the other hand pressed against the base of Quinn's throat.

It took perhaps another twenty minutes for Quinn to come out of her frantic state.

"How are you feeling now?"

Quinn shook her head. "Like someone replaced all my organs with cement blocks," she responded quietly, delicately giving herself some space, but her hand remained clenching Rachel's shirt as if it were her life raft. "Still so, so sad," she took a quivering breath.

The shorter of the pair nodded sympathetically, her palm smoothing over Quinn's hair. How quickly real, painful grief grew a bond between two people. It was strange, that this felt completely natural and somehow as if it were always going to happen. Who knew you more intimately than the person you considered 'enemy?' Rachel didn't even have a friend that knew her as well as Quinn - and now it seemed that she, too, knew Quinn in some intimate way. "Please, try not to think of - please, don't go," Rachel found the words hesitating on her tongue, a bare whisper. "I couldn't bare to - " Tears filled her eyes unexpectedly once more and she found Quinn looking at her sadly, curiously.

The blonde seemed to have no words, instead pressing her forehead against Rachel's shoulder and leaning heavily on her.

"I would care so much more than you could imagine, more than I think even I could imagine," Rachel found her throat constricting with emotion and she rested her head against Quinn's, closing her eyes.

"I don't want to," Quinn finally responded, her voice sounding tired.

Rachel nodded subtly, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave tonight," she apologized. "You can sleep here, I have pajama bottoms - they'd be more comfortable than your jeans, I think."

"Sure," Quinn agreed quietly, standing and looking a bit dumbly after Rachel as the brunette found a long enough pair for the taller girl. She handed her a two-sizes-too-big pair of sweatpants and motioned to the adjoining bathroom, just in case Quinn didn't feel like stripping down. When the blonde disappeared and closed the door, Rachel suddenly darted over and knocked.

"You can't - uhm, you shouldn't lock the door. Or close it all the way," Rachel hesitated but knew it had to be said. When someone confessed the kind of dark feelings Quinn had just spoken of, Rachel knew that one was too fragile even after they had calmed down. It would be a few days before Quinn might return to a state where safety wouldn't be a concern.

A small, sad sigh came from the other side of the door as Quinn pulled the door open just a little bit.

"Sorry," Rachel responded quietly, leaning her head against the doorframe, her expression saddened.

"Don't be," Quinn's throaty voice responded. There was the brief sound of jeans unzipping, fabric swishing delicately, and finally the door came all the way open, Quinn emerging in the sweatpants, her jeans folded. "Where can I set these?"

Rachel took the jeans and set them on top of her dresser, eyes trailing over Quinn carefully. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep?"

Quinn nodded, and as she turned her back and slipped into the still-made part of the bed, she mumbled something Rachel didn't quite hear.

Rachel asked for clarification just as she climbed under her covers, realizing that sleeping on a double mattress was still kind of close quarters. "Sorry, I didn't hear you -"

"Thank you, Rachel," Quinn clarified just loud enough to be heard.

"Just - if I fall asleep first -"

"I won't leave."

Those were the last quiet words Rachel heard before she drifted into a heavy sleep, her hand resting against Quinn's back where her body and the mattress met, as if to assure herself that the blonde was safe and alive.

###

When Rachel woke for the second time in a day, it was 6am and her alarm beeped unpleasantly. Beside her, Quinn failed to stir at the sound. Normally, though it was a Saturday, Rachel would've gotten up to use her elliptical but it seemed that the night's events had drained her just a little too much. She reset the alarm and turned over, eyes lingering on Quinn's form. Sometime in the night, Quinn had put her hood on and curled into the fetal position. Her breathing was slow and even, despite Rachel reaching forward to delicately press her hand to Quinn's arm.

Rachel had the strange impulse to scoot closer, wondered what it might feel like with Quinn in her arms again, but resisted the impulse out of sheer confusion. She stifled a yawn with the palm of her hand and rolled to her side, closed her eyes again.

She was glad that Quinn was still there, still okay. The previous night might have seemed like a strange dream if it were not for Quinn still asleep in her bed, wearing her sweatpants and bundled in her comforter. Also, Rachel was glad to find out that Quinn was not a cover hog.

###

At 9am when Quinn finally started to stir, Rachel asked her first stupid question for the day.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Quinn blinked sleepily and gave a non-commital grunt. She followed it with a shake of her head and closed her eyes again.

"Would breakfast help?"

Another shake of her head, but Quinn rolled over and Rachel was surprised when the blonde ducked her head against Rachel's pillow, resting her body slightly against Rachel's. The brunette felt her heart falter a little bit, and she leaned up on her elbow, her hand hesitating just above Quinn's shoulder before she began to draw comforting circles over Quinn's back. There was no protest.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I feel fucking embarassed," Quinn's words were muffled against the pillow, but Rachel made them out well enough. "I feel frustrated because I'm still fucking depressed."

Rachel's eyes lingered on Quinn for some time, her fingers trailing down Quinn's spine then upwards, in the back of her mind wondering how it came to be that she was actually comforting Quinn Fabray physically, almost intimately.

"I want it to stop," Quinn finished, turning her gaze to Rachel. The darkness from the night before seemed to be drained from her eyes, which was a comforting sight. Now, despite the sadness evident, she felt like Quinn had come back to reality from that dark abyss.

"It will," Rachel soothed gently.

"Last night - "

"- is nothing to be ashamed of."

This didn't seem to comfort Quinn much, but the blonde pressed her head into the pillow again and folded her arms beneath her. Rachel found her fingers moving of their own accord, tangling gently in Quinn's hair, soothing trails over Quinn's scalp.

She wondered how things might go once they'd gone back to school for the week. Worry painted her expression, so she was glad Quinn wasn't looking at her. Instead, Rachel settled for resting her head against Quinn's shoulderblade, tucking herself against Quinn and savoring the warmth of human connection. She was pleased when Quinn didn't seem to object.

So they spent the day like that, in bed, Quinn occasionally letting her emotions surface through conversation, eating quickly-made sandwiches and pouring over various things Rachel had in her room. By evening's fall, Rachel was pleased when Quinn asked if she could stay another night, not yet sure if she could watch Quinn leave without worrying about her safety.

She supposed that the day had been a success, though, because they fell asleep late the following night after a conversation filled with laughter and gentle jibes sent in one another's direction, almost as if Quinn wasn't feeling so sad anymore.


	2. Recovery

**Title:** They Had to Scrape Me Off the Floor

**Pairing**: Rachel/Quinn

**Synopsis**: Quinn has to figure out how to get through the muck of depression. Rachel trails lightly behind, ready to help when needed.

**Author's** **Note**: Hey guys, been a long damn time, I know. Hopefully the next couple of weeks will see at least 2 or 3 more updates in this and/or other stories. Lyrics from "Stars" by The Weepies.

–

2. **Recovery**

_Pink Magnolia, blushing and coy__  
><em>_Savors the sun while she shines__  
><em>_You've got yours and I've got mine__  
><em>_Together we glide through the blue-velvet dark and stars_

Rachel entered her room as quietly as possible. Her clock read 5:32AM and Quinn was passed out, a foot peeking out from beneath Rachel's comforter. She was snoring, but lightly enough for it to be only mildly amusing. Sipping at her glass of water, Rachel sat on the edge of the bed, eyes lingering on the sleeping form beside her.

This was the third time since that fateful knock on the door that Quinn had stayed the night. Rachel was in a state of mild disbelief because in those short few days, she'd felt an awakened and intense pull to Quinn. It held no nuance other than _strong. _Yet it was quiet and subtle, like a half-remembered dream. Rachel touched a lock of blonde hair gently before getting off the bed and getting in the shower, the door clicking behind her.

–

"I'm not sure how much longer -" Hiram was whispering hotly to his husband, brows knitted together in apparent irritation. His husband gave a brief warning 'shush' as both Rachel and Quinn entered the room, already having been within earshot.

"Ready to go girls?" Leroy asked interestedly, straightening his husband's tie before grabbing the second set of car keys.

Rachel nodded. Beside her, Quinn was shifting lightly back and forth on her feet. Last night the Berry dads had driven her to her mother's house to get clothes for today. She was looking her Cheerio-best, white sneakers and all. Her hair, however, hung loosely around her face. Rachel had been lucky enough to see the process of decision, and felt as if she'd seen another facet of Quinn's vulnerability. Unlike the haughty expression the blonde wore while she looked in the mirror at school, Quinn had been frowning at her reflection while deciding upon her hairstyle. She didn't know Rachel was paying attention. There had been a crease between Quinn's eyebrows and it was difficult to ignore the suggestion of disdain it held.

Rachel hadn't said anything, only cleared her throat and announced that it was time to leave for school.

In the car, trees zipping by, Quinn's gaze was again cloudy, distracted. Rachel reached over and delicately, almost fearfully, touched Quinn's knee. After all, the intimacy and the bond they'd developed over the last few days had been in a contained environment. That would no doubt change the moment they were in public together. She didn't even know if Quinn considered her a friend, but she hoped so.

"I'll be fine," Quinn spoke quietly, sounding doubtful of her own words. "It's not like anyone knows – just you – about this weekend."

"About -"

"About me having that kind of breakdown," Quinn glanced over, clarifying. Her expression shifted a little as she seemed to realize Rachel's concern might be related to whether or not Quinn was ashamed that she had spent the weekend at Rachel's. It had been like an extended sleepover, really. However, Rachel wasn't popular, wasn't on the list of acceptable people for Cheerios to hang out with. (Literally. Jacob Ben Isreal had found a list just outside the girl's locker room and proceeded to share it with the whole school.)

Rachel nodded simply. "Nobody knows. For all they know you're feeling just as you normally do."

"Nobody actually pays attention to how I feel," Quinn glanced away with a subtle shake of her head. "Trust me."

Rachel made a vow there to make Quinn Fabray feel genuinely valued. And cared for. She swallowed her fear and reached over, fingers squeezing Quinn's hand meaningfully and guiding it between them. Quinn's expression gave away her surprise, her hazel gaze dropping between them. Maybe she, too, had been expecting their bond to disappear as soon as they left the Berry household. She looked searchingly at Rachel, seemingly at a loss for words. Rachel wanted to say too many things, and they all sat heavily on her tongue.

Tension built in her chest as she noted the way Quinn seemed to have stopped breathing. And then – fingers, slipping over the top of Rachel's grip, sandwiching Rachel's hand between both of Quinn's. Delicate and ever so brief.

The car stopped and their hands separated rather quickly, Quinn's entire body language changing as soon as she stepped out of the car. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Berry. And for being so hospitable."

"See you later, Dad," Rachel leaned between the front seats, pressing her lips to her father's cheek and getting out of the car just after Quinn.

Quinn waited, to Rachel's surprise. It made her heart flutter. Quinn had waited expectantly a few feet away after saying goodbye to Rachel's father, eyes searching for Rachel in the passing bodies. In silence, they walked beside one another, closer than one might have expected before.

Now, it seemed, a thread tethered them closely. They didn't exchange words in those early hours, only parting in silence, but it was in the way Quinn made it a point to search Rachel's face before they parted that made Rachel's heart stammer against her ribs. Before she could say anything or even wave, her former enemy – now friend? – was being surrounded by Cheerios.

Rachel wasn't sure if she imagined the weight of a stare at her back, but she flushed red anyway.

–

Most of the day, through lunch, everything had been pretty normal. Until the guidance counselor came in, passing out pamphlets. Rachel wasn't sure what they were about – she hadn't gotten one yet – but judging by the expressions of amusement, confusion, and surprise, it was something sexual. One of the younger boys yelled something about barebacking and everyone erupted in laughter at his table.

It was movement at the Cheerio table that caught Rachel's attention. Santana was reaching for a fleeing Quinn, hand flailing in the air after her but failing to catch her. Quinn reached back roughly, slapping away Santana's hand.

Taken by something she couldn't explain, Rachel got up loudly from her own table and grabbed a pamphlet from a nearby table.

_**PREGNANCY=REGRET: WHY YOU SHOULD WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!**_

She didn't even need to leaf through the pamphlet. Rachel knew Quinn would need her, and regardless of the confused and annoyed way Santana was staring at her in passing, Rachel took off at a run. She wasn't sure where to even begin looking for Quinn. Normally she'd check the nearest bathroom since that was always where they seemed to find one another when they _didn't _want to, but something in her hit the autopilot button.

Through the choir room shades Rachel was able to see Quinn's hunched figure in the back row. She tried the door handle but was a little surprised to find it locked. Habit, she thought, developed while hiding from an alcoholic mother or living with Puck's family. Quinn's eternal need to protect herself.

Rachel hesitantly tapped on the glass. Once, and then when she heard Quinn stop crying, she tapped the glass again. The shades parted briefly, one reddened hazel eye staring at her. The lock clicked and the door opened. Quinn had hidden half her body behind the door and closed it just as quickly behind Rachel as she had opened it. She locked the door again.

"Quinn -" Rachel began, having rehearsed and written a whole comforting script in her head, but she was instead suddenly burdened with the weight of Quinn's shaking form and stumbled back, warm arms slipping around her and fingers digging into her shoulders. Quinn buried her face against Rachel's neck.

It would not do to leave Quinn open to ridicule. If anyone saw her in such a state, they'd take the first chance they could to put salt in her wounds. Weakness, in the higher social ranks, was preyed upon. Rachel glanced back as best she could, ensuring the door was locked and the shades were drawn, and she delicately disengaged from Quinn and guided her as delicately as possible to the back of the room. Quinn collapsed into a chair, speechless in grief and from tears, but before Rachel could sit, Quinn's hands were slipping around the brunette's waist and forcing her forward. Surprised at the ferocity of Quinn's need to have physical comfort, it took Rachel's body a moment to respond.

Rachel sifted fingers through Quinn's hair as the blonde head ducked forward and a face was pressed against Rachel's navel. "Sweetie," Rachel whispered delicately, leaning forward as much as she was able, wanting to hold Quinn fully. Resigned to this standing position, she waited for Quinn to calm down (ignoring the bruising and painful way Quinn's fingers were digging into her lower back) before she disengaged and kneeled before Quinn, hands reaching to her legs and catching the blonde's falling hands. "It's okay."

"The universe is really fucked up, you know?" Quinn spat pathetically, face reddened with grief. "I'm so tired of – I don't want to hurt like this anymore. It's haunting me. And then this stupid – why would a counselor _ever _pass out a pamphlet like that?"

"It did have a really badly written title -" Rachel joked quietly, catching Quinn's eyes and squeezing her hands delicately. "I'm sorry," she added in a gentler tone. "I know that certain things are going to be triggering right now."

"I almost thought you were Santana but she would've yelled through the door," Quinn spoke after a few moments, still slightly gasping with tears. Rachel had barely tapped with her fingertips. The brunette fell silent, playing with the tips of Quinn's fingers before standing up and taking the seat next to her.

"Can I ask you something?" Rachel let go of Quinn's hand (with some reluctance), cleared her throat a little, "Why did you come to me? Why my house, of all places?"

Quinn covered her face for a moment, giving a brief sob tinged with laughter, "You're the only person I trust."

The admission was astonishing. "You have spent all this time – not recently, but before … you spent so much time bringing me down. And then this weekend – you came to me like we've always been close."

"I always felt close to you," the tone in Quinn's voice made Rachel hold her breath a little, tension and anxiety sitting on her chest. "I hated you because I wanted you to protect yourself from people like me."

Rachel avoided Quinn's eyes as they rose to search her expression. She didn't know how to feel about this admission. It didn't make much sense to her. Clasping her palms together, she turned them over and stared at the lines there as if she could understand the meaning of these events.

"Rachel, if I hadn't come over to your house this weekend, would you still have run after me today?"

Nodding, Rachel gave a half-smile. "You know I would have."

"That's why I came to you. You've never had any reason to care about me but you always have. I have given you every reason to hate me and – you never have," Quinn whispered the last bit, covering her eyes momentarily. "I'd trust you with my life, Rachel. All this – all the things we've been through, logically I know it's all relatively pointless and that the world continues on after we graduate. I see you as a constant. You're a still point in all of this awfulness, most of it which I create."

"You don't," Rachel soothed, reaching over again.

"I do. That's not the point though. You're the one who knocked on the door today when – you could've just let someone else do it."

Rachel swallowed a knot in her throat and felt the warmth of Quinn's shoulder next to hers. "We both know I never let someone else take the lead," she joked in a quiet tone.

Quinn's laughter rung beside her, clear and sweet like a bell.

Nothing could have made Rachel smile any more happily than that sound. And she didn't understand why, but maybe sometimes one has the follow the tugging of their heart, wherever it takes them. She nudged Quinn gently, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I just wish I could stop crying at the smallest things. It seems like all I am is this wadded up mess of sadness and anger," Quinn admitted. Neither could meet each other in the eye – too much was swirling between them and eye contact would've made it all multiply, the good and the bad.

"I'm sorry," Rachel didn't know what you said to someone when they felt that way. She surmised that anything she said might be relatively pointless, "I can promise you that one day it gets just a little easier and the depression won't be so heavy."

"Does this mean we're friends now?" Quinn's question was surprisingly full of uncertainty. "I wasn't sure if you'd – I mean of course my friends are going to say something because that's the only thing they know how to do – but I didn't know if you – after everything I've done." A groan of frustration, "God – I can't even speak properly when it comes to how I'm feeling. It's like someone's stolen 89% of my vocabulary. I'm even spelling things wrong."

"Depression, from what I know, makes a sort of fog. Your brain has a hard time focusing," Rachel soothed the best way she could. "I'm not saying anything you've done to me in the past is right, or that you get a free pass, but – " the brunette took a small breath, reached over, fingers delicately grazing Quinn's wrist. Their fingers tangled the second Quinn's palm turned over. "I'm not going anywhere. Seeing you cry -" Rachel shook her head, "I don't think you understand how much I care about you."

They both fell into a mutual silence, neither bothering to disengage their fingers from the tangle. Rachel, in retrospect, never thought she'd see the day when Quinn Fabray was confiding in her or allowing her to hold her hand. Regardless of her confusion over the fresh bond between them, she was grateful for this very moment. And she was grateful Quinn would be alright.

–

A well-manicured hand slammed Rachel's locker shut right as she lifted her book out of it. Squealing, she moved away from the intrusion only to find a taller body behind her, two pale hands grasping her shoulders.

"So now that you're Quinn's friend or whatever we can't slushie you but I need you to know one thing -" Santana Lopez tapped her finger roughly against Rachel's shoulder, eliciting a small, pained sound, "- this does not mean you are safe."

"I mean she kinda is because that's really the only -" Brittany had begun thoughtfully. Her grip on Rachel wasn't firm at all, and if Rachel really thought about it, Brittany was kind of pulling her closer as she spoke. A long blonde lock of hair dipped by her ear and she moved away from it a little. "Santana, why are we threatening her? Quinn said she's totally cool now."

"Look at that sweater – _do you really think she's cool?" _Santana rolled her eyes a bit before examining Rachel closely, "Just watch it, Berry. If you're using Quinn or trying to get some popularity points or something equally lame, you'll see what it's like to be on my bad side."

Brittany pressed a kiss to Rachel's cheek before skipping off after Santana, who seemed to be scolding her girlfriend for being too kind. Rachel caught the tail-end of Brittany's question, "-n't you like cats? Her sweater had a cat on it."

What a very confusing encounter. She assumed, from what she could glean, that Quinn's closest friends, the Cheerios, now knew that Quinn was going to be associating with Rachel in social settings. She also absently appreciated the fact that they were afraid _for Quinn _and wanted to be sure their friend wasn't being taken advantage of. It just confirmed the hope that Quinn had more than just one Rachel Berry on her team through this very difficult time.

A panting Quinn came through the after-school crowd, "Am I too late? Did they find you?"

Donning a very somber look, Rachel nodded and turned to open her locker. "Oh, yes. It was pretty terrible. Brittany kind of spooned me and Santana tried to come up with a threat. And told me that I'd better not be using your friendship to gain popularity."

Quinn groaned, "I'm sorry, I told them that you weren't the kind of person to ever take advantage but then -"

"I rolled plus ten toward Slushie Immunity though, so my fathers will be happy about that."

"You what?"

Okay, apparently Quinn had never played D&D. Rachel made a mental note not to use those references despite her disappointment; she'd kind of hoped Quinn was a closet nerd. "They said they can't slushie me anymore. You realize this means I don't have to buy new clothes every few weeks?"

"Oh," Quinn replied, glancing down the hall where she must have supposed her friends had gone. "They said they couldn't do that anymore?"

"Yes, they must value your feelings. I for one am glad that they care enough to look out for you."

Hopefully it wouldn't be a brittle peace between Rachel and the Cheerios. Her friendship with Quinn was, however, officially a public affair. So when she reached forward to touch Quinn's arm, she was glad to feel a hand cover her own briefly. They exchanged meaningful smiles, Rachel's heart lifting at the sight of Quinn's.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly after the contact broke. Side by side, they passed through the front doors and down the sidewalk, where inevitably Rachel's fathers would be waiting to pick Rachel up. She regretted this moment – a part of her wished Quinn was coming home with her. She worried about the state of things once Quinn returned to her mother's home. Had the woman even noticed her child was gone? Had she cared?

"I'm okay," Quinn replied, eyes seeming to linger at the line of cars. She walked a little slower than usual. "I'm scared to go home."

Rachel glanced aside, eyes drifting upward to search Quinn's expression. She wanted to offer her home for Quinn, but something in her knew the offer would be rejected. She also had a feeling Hiram and Leroy were kind of annoyed with the extended stay.

"I have to, though," Quinn sighed, "That's the worst part. I have nowhere else to go and I don't have any of my clothing with me, so it's not like I could be anywhere else for long. I mean – at one point I was sleeping in my car."

Rachel vaguely recalled a part of that narrative, but it still surprised her and made her heart ache. The image of Quinn sleeping in her own car made a knot form in her throat. She reached over, taking a gentle hold of Quinn's elbow. "You know you have somewhere to go."

"I know. I mean – I – " she seemed to want to say something else, but her hazel eyes clouded with uncertainty. And then her gaze dropped to the ground at their feet. "I want to. I don't think I've been so comfortable anywhere before – " there was almost a hint at the end, ghosts of words unspoken. Something that made Rachel's heart stutter in its pace. "I have to try to stay at my house though. Maybe I can get through to my mother. Maybe if she knows what I'm going through... she'll stop what she's doing."

Rachel nodded in understanding, "At least call? I'm sure – even if they seem cranky about it – my fathers would be happy to take me to come get you if you need to leave. If something happens." Her eyes searched Quinn's face. In truth her fear was that the moment Quinn was left alone she might lapse into that headspace she had been in. The last thing she wanted to be was the person who could've _done something to stop it. _

Quinn waved behind Rachel. "Hey Mr. Berry!" She greeted kindly before looking again at Rachel. The brunette had to admit she'd never been so disappointed to know her fathers were here. The shorter girl stepped forward and took Quinn's hands, turned them over before she let them go, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck, standing all the way up on the very tips of her toes. To her surprise, Quinn not only hugged her back – publicly! – but held on nearly tight enough for Rachel to feel the wind squeezed from her lungs. And she didn't mind.

Rachel wanted to say so much, wanted to plead with Quinn to _be safe _and to text her every moment, anything to soothe the deep fear that Quinn might still be on that precipice. Instead she could only tangle her fingers in the wispy hairs at the back of Quinn's neck. "Promise to call?"

"Pinkie promise."

So they parted, Rachel feeling a pang of something as she watched Quinn's still figure gazing down the road as the car moved further away. She only vaguely registered Hiram's voice, too busy watching the rear-view mirror.

–

"She _still_ hasn't called," Rachel bolted into the livingroom, her cell phone clutched in her hand. "Dad, Daddy, what if something happened? What if she's still depressed or in a bad state of mind and I was wrong to let her go back home?" Panic clutched her chest.

"Sweetheart," Hiram soothed delicately.

"Rachel Barbra Berry," Leroy stood, a little more firm in the way he parented in the midst of Rachel's panic. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her gently to a chair. "Your friend is a perfectly capable lady. She came here when she knew it was safest not to be in the environment she was in. Don't you think, after the nice weekend you both had, the way you helped her, that she'd rather – "

"Stick around, so to speak," Hiram finished his husband's sentence, kneeling beside Rachel's chair. "She's going to be fine. It's only 8:30. Maybe she's finally having a real discussion with her mother. It could be going better than you think."

Leroy nodded. "Besides, she doesn't seem like the kind of girl to break a promise. You told us she promised that she'd call."

Rachel conceded silently with a nod, fingers running circles over her leg. "You're both right."

"We were going to ask – "

"Maybe now isn't the best time, Hiram."

"Do you _like _this girl?"

Rachel looked up, flabberghasted. "I mean I – she's – we have a very complicated – "

"You've been fixated on her, darling. Ever since you met the girl. She's been cruel, and I can't say I like that, but your father and I see the way you interact and it reminds us – "

"Of us."

"You?"

"Leroy made my life a living hell in college. He was Mister Football and I was – well, an admissions geek. I gave the freshman tours on campus. I thought I hated him, or that I should, but when a fraternity picked him to be a scapegoat I was the first one to come to his defense in front of a whole committee. It turns out he was only a jerk because feelings were a totally alien concept to him."

Rachel raised an eyebrow and glanced between her fathers.

"We're not saying that cruelty is acceptable, but we are saying that maybe you two girls have been trying to manifest your feelings in the wrong ways. Fighting over the same boy who – quite honestly – neither of you really wanted in the end."

"The girl we met this weekend wasn't the same girl that's been torturing you. Something's changed her and I think it's safe to say that having you around may be good for her. And maybe – "

Rachel couldn't really believe she was hearing all this. It wasn't that Quinn was female. She'd never been silly enough to think that she should limit who she might love. It was just that her fathers had essentially called her out for having been fixated on Quinn all this time. It was true, they had been passionate toward one another – regardless of whether it was a negative passion or otherwise – even as they tortured one another. And then with Quinn's sudden vulnerability toward Rachel and the strange, strong bond that had grown over the weekend, it seemed that her fathers might actually be a little bit right.

"Let this friendship develop, honey. Take time to enjoy it. We're not saying you should give us a reason to ban sleepovers with Quinn, but you seem happier around her. That's something I can get behind," Leroy finished, silencing his husband with a pat on his shoulder.

Rachel, silenced as well, nodded. Her mouth felt dry. Did she really _like _Quinn? She cared about Quinn. Felt deeply for Quinn. And – okay, there was some romantic tension there these last few days, once Quinn had relaxed a little.

There was a sense of rightness and completion when she was around Quinn. Quinn, to Rachel, felt like an inevitability. She could be 45 years old and turn a corner and wouldn't feel a drop of surprise if she found Quinn there.

–

_Doing ok. Mom's drunk though. Depressed but not BAD. - Q_

_You had me so worried! It's 10PM! - R*_

_I was thinking about some stuff. I'm sry. - Q_

_It's ok. What stuff? - R*_

… _Idk. I just miss being around u and that's weird. - Q_

_Oh...- R*_

_Like it was only a few days. I just got used to waking up n u being there. - Q_

Rachel's stomach flipped a little. In truth, her bed felt a little empty. And the hoodie Quinn had been wearing was still laying on the pillow. Rachel tucked it gently against her side and lay back.

_I miss you too, Quinn. - R*_

_I don't like being around my mom. When she's drunk she gets mad or gets weird. I want to leave. - Q_

_Come over? It's safe here. - R*_

_It's stupid but what if I've been wrong about why I was so mean to u. - Q_

_It's ok if you are. I'm not going anywhere. It's ok to not know. - R*_

_Can u come get me? - Q_

_I'll ask Dad. - R*_

–

Rachel watched Quinn step out of her house, backback slung over her shoulder, feeling a conflicting set of emotions. She was happy to see Quinn, upset at the reasons Quinn didn't want to be in her own home, and upset with herself for being happy that Quinn was coming over. It didn't feel appropriate under the circumstances.

The blonde opened the back car door and slipped in with relative quiet, stifling a yawn. "Thank you, Mr. Berry. Other Mr. Berry."

Rachel gave a small, genuine smile. She searched Quinn's face; was she upset? Was she okay?

"I looked up that reference you made," Quinn spoke by way of greeting Rachel, albeit quietly. "Don't tell me you play D&D?"

"Once or twice. It's not as bad as you think," Rachel defended with a coy smile. "If you're going to be my friend you must accept that sometimes I am _very _nerdy."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but smiled afterward. "I suppose."

The drive back to Rachel's wasn't very long, and both of the Berry dads said their goodnights, gave Rachel slight warning glances, and headed off to bed. Leroy had also kissed Rachel on the forehead and murmured, "No funny business."

Rachel felt a strange nervousness. This time felt different. After all, Quinn's text had left her slightly confused and slightly excited. It could mean many things, but maybe Rachel hoped her dads were right. Maybe she hoped Quinn's feelings had just long-manifested in a different way. Maybe she hoped the wires were uncrossed now. She closed the door as Quinn dropped her bag next to the bed.

"You're sure it's okay if I stay for the rest of the week? I'm sure your dads aren't happy about the extra mouth to feed."

"They're not," Rachel gave an apologetic smile, "but they wouldn't ever turn away someone who needed a place to stay. Especially someone who's important to me."

Quinn studied Rachel, palms spread over her stomach. The silence unnerved Rachel but before she could speak, Quinn sat up and tugged at Rachel's hand. Obligingly, the shorter girl sat down and looked curiously at Quinn. _Tooclose. Too close. _

"What?"

"I don't know why, but you're important to me too. I think you pretty much always have been. I expended so much energy trying to – " Quinn trailed off, shaking her head momentarily.

Rachel reached forward, drawing her fingers along the cusp of Quinn's ear, "It's okay. Let's just – have a good week together." She flushed warmly when Quinn's eyes fluttered shut.

She was determined to not let her hormones or her feelings run away from her.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was really worried that you'd – "

Quinn leaned forward, pulling Rachel against her, the shorter girl's arms tucked against Quinn's chest. Rachel had never really put much thought into how lovely Quinn's embraces felt. Her eyes closed and she was fisting the fabric of Quinn's sweater. Breathing as quietly as possible, she pressed the bridge of her nose to Quinn's collarbone. "I don't think I could now," came the gentle voice, a shimmering, beautiful assertion.


	3. Won't You Come Over?

**3. Won't You Come on Over?**

_Branches are bare with a pulse underneath__  
><em>_Flowering slowly inside__  
><em>_Your hands are warm and my body is wide__  
><em>_To hold all the promise of blue-velvet dark and stars__  
><em>_All it takes is a little faith and a lot of heart__  
><em>_Sweetheart._

Rachel woke up when she felt fingers sleepily clenching the fabric of her shirt. Beside her, Quinn was half-splayed across her side of the mattress but she seemed to have fallen asleep holding onto Rachel's shirt at the very least. The shorter of the pair gave a somnolent grin and trailed her fingers across the tips of Quinn's. Quinn stirred only slightly and did not wake.

The blonde had been staying with her for a few nights already, their bonding having moved away from comforting Quinn to just enjoying one another's company. Quinn's mood – when not impeded by her mother – was far improved from what it had been when this had all began. Although Hiram and Leroy were not all together pleased with feeding another child, they seemed to be more understanding each day that passed. They had both accepted they had taken on at least a frequent house-guest. Not to mention Leroy seemed to be secretly giving Quinn and Rachel opportunities to be left alone in the house, ushering Hiram out when they usually would've stayed home.

School was to start in an hour or two, and Rachel really wished she could've just stayed with Quinn today at home. However they'd both be dropped off and go through their day as usual; one routine had changed, though. Quinn sat with Rachel every other day at lunch, despite the glares Santana would send her way or the "save me" looks Brittany would subject them both to.

Rachel shifted just a little bit closer to Quinn, the warmth of her thigh just barely grazing Quinn's; brunette hair spilled over the body beside her as Rachel buried her face against Quinn's shoulderblade. She yawned sleepily against the blonde's shoulder and ran her fingers up Quinn's spine a couple times, something that she'd only just discovered seemed to get Quinn's attention very quickly.

Beneath her, the Cheerio shifted slightly into the contact. Rachel wondered absently, the more her mind came to her, whether or not Quinn felt the slight intensity of small things – the meeting of eyes or the way fingers lingered just a little bit longer on hands, or legs. Even now, Rachel felt her heart stuttering a little bit when she pulled away, eyes grazing the gentle expanse of skin at the back of Quinn's neck. Where curiosity searched, so did her fingers, trailing in a brief but searching way.

"Morn'," Quinn grumbled into the pillow. Like clockwork every morning, after saying good morning, Quinn would clear her throat as if to clear the grain from her voice. When she did this, Rachel would give a small grin at the way she'd learned to expect these small mannerisms.

A somber expression befell Rachel, "Quinn?" Her voice pitched low, almost to a whisper. Emotion hit her without much warning. "I don't want you to leave."

Her reaction torpid, Quinn shifted onto her side, Rachel's fingers remaining stagnant and dragging along the shifting of Quinn's neck, "What? What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to go back to your mom's house."

"I mean I can't – your dad's would never let me just … _stay _here – are you okay? What's wrong?" Quinn sat up, seemingly aware of the hand moving from her neck to her collarbone. Her eyes darted down to where Rachel's fingers were dipping gently against the curve of it. "You look so serious."

Rachel shifted forward in place and felt her heart stammer, hard, against her ribs. Quinn didn't shift away, thankfully, despite the fact Rachel was nearly spooning her side. The blonde did look a little confused and worried. "I like having you here. I – waking up with you and being around you it just … it's honestly the happiest I think I've ever been so far and I don't – I don't want it to stop."

Nervous hazel eyes searched Rachel's. "Uhm -" Quinn's chest rose and fell a little unevenly, and she sat up just a little more. "What's – I'm not going anywhere, even if I can't always stay here, I mean -" Slightly pale cheeks turned a little red.

Rachel knew she was coming off quite intense but something in her was tugging, hard, and it ached to think of sleeping without Quinn. Her fingers dotted themselves along Quinn's collar bone and dark eyes darted to Quinn's lips. "I don't know how to explain it, I know I'm being weird I just – I feel like when you're around it's better."

Quinn swallowed in a seemingly nervous fashion, but she didn't move despite their close proximity. "I don't – I wasn't expecting you to .. say anything like this. I just … I mean I'll – your dads won't let me just stay here. I know that."

"It's – I'm being silly," Rachel murmured quietly, a little embarassed at her emotional bubble bursting. She slowly got out of bed and tried to give the most lighthearted laugh she could muster, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me. I need to get a shower though." Her voice was suddenly falsely energetic and she knew Quinn could tell that as well. The brunette gave a brief apologetic grin before disappearing into the bathroom.

Her shower was quick and she shook just a little bit, belittling herself for the sudden need she felt. It was as if all over the period of two weeks, Quinn had awakened some great loneliness in her that only seemed to go _away _when Quinn was there. She climbed out and dried herself off, wrapping herself up in her robe and tying it, but before she could put the brush through her hair, a hesitant knock drew her attention.

"Can I come in?" Quinn asked, her voice muffled through the wood of the door.

Rachel glanced at her clothing, but figured Quinn had seen her in her bra and underwear during gym class, so a robe was even less revealing. Nevertheless, she tied it a little tighter and opened the door. She was expecting Quinn to grab her toothbrush or something but she was not expecting the way the blonde closed the door and gave her the most intense look she'd ever had Quinn give her.

Rachel's heart nearly hammered out of her chest and she wrung the brush handle tightly, "Are you okay?"

"I like staying with you," it seemed simple enough, the words, but there was something heavy laden in them. "I like sleeping next to you. If we can – figure out some way that I can stay or that – I don't know, if we can figure out something, it'd make me happy too."

A slow grin made cautious trail across her lips and Rachel bounced a little on bare feet. Forgetting the fact that she was in a bathrobe, she crossed the small space and wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, standing on her tiptoes a little bit.

Quinn didn't even hesitate. Rachel felt warm breath on her shoulder and fingers tangle in her hair; shivers moved over her scalp at the contact. Quinn's had her in a firm, intense, loving embrace. There was something incredibly intimate that built over the next few seconds. It went from a surprised, joyful hug to Rachel's eyes slipping shut and feeling Quinn's embrace tighten.

She tangled her fingers strategically in blonde locks, pressed her nose just a little closer to Quinn's neck, held herself there. At this point she was kind of pressing Quinn into the door and the blonde didn't seem to mind. Her heart was racing in her chest like an amped-up racing horse and she really didn't know what to make of it. Only that suddenly the embrace grew a quiet desperation and she could vaguely feel lips move against her slightly-bared shoulder.

It just felt … _right. _To be held like this by Quinn, to hold herself so close that she could feel Quinn's breath against the space between her neck and shoulder.

It got intense quick and if Rachel wasn't so unsure of how Quinn felt she would've thought maybe she was about to be kissed. She swallowed after what seemed to be a pretty lengthy embrace, hands trembling, and she delicately pulled away as Quinn's arms stopped holding so tightly. Rachel ran her fingers over the front of Quinn's shirt and flattened it out carefully, as if afraid of wrinkles, blushing and slightly embarassed.

"You're in your robe," Quinn observed as if for the first time. Rachel only gave a little bit of a nervous laugh.

She was about to say something clever or coy but her voice was too nervous to say anything steadily, so she settled for trailing her fingers over Quinn's arms momentarily. "That was nice. The – the hug."

The Cheerio didn't say anything, but Rachel felt a brush of lips against her forehead before Quinn moved out of the bathroom and left Rachel a quivering mess.

That was the only incident that indicated very much to Rachel, at least that morning. They parted as usual for morning classes, all lingering looks and silent "see you laters" and the heavy weight of Quinn's stare at her back. By the time lunch rolled around, Rachel had replayed their intimate morning about thirty-seven times – much to the enjoyment of her teacher who seemed happy to catch her not paying attention toward the last hour before lunch – and she felt tingles whenever she grazed the place Quinn had been warmly breathing across her skin.

Yes, Rachel certainly had romantic feelings for Quinn and she didn't know how the hell she was going to make anything happen. She didn't even know if Quinn liked girls. Maybe it wasn't a girl likes girl, thing, though. Maybe it was a "we have a really intense bond" thing. And that was even better, if that was the case. How would she even begin to approach Quinn about it though?

What was it her fathers had said? _Enjoy the friendship. _That's about what they said. And Rachel certainly was but when she had been laying in bed that morning or avoiding Quinn's gaze all her mind had been focused on what it might feel like to have Quinn brush her lips against her own instead of Rachel's forehead.

She sat down at the lunch table still burdened with this thought and barely even realized Quinn was approaching her until her mind registered that eyes were on her. Rachel found brilliant hazel eyes looking at her, sparkling with amusement.

"Anyone home?" Quinn teased, setting her tray down and picking up the apple, twisting the stem off. (Absently, Rachel wondered if Quinn still did the alphabet thing. 'A, B, C, D, E' all the way to 'R' where the stem would break off and that delicious fruit would predict they were soulmates.) She bit into her apple, chewed, swallowed, and offered another amused laugh. "I mean if I'm interrupting – " playfully she began to pick her tray.

This jarred Rachel into action who nearly leapt out of her seat to catch Quinn's arm. Embarassed by the instinctual panic, Rachel blushed red and covered her face with her hands after she sat back down. "Sorry, I just – I'm very distracted today." Her face was hidden behind her fingers but she nearly startled again when she felt a gentle grip around her wrist, tugging carefully.

Quinn was searching her eyes again and making her nervous. "It's okay, I'm just teasing you. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just – you know, this morning. Trying to figure out how to get you to stay more often."

"Well I want to if that's what you – "

"I mean, how to … make it so that you're allowed to stay more often."

"I could get pregnant again – " Quinn joked, then winced at her own stupidity. "Bad joke."

Rachel gave a quiet smile and leaned forward. "Good joke, probably not great timing. Given what you were feeling a couple weeks ago or so." (Had it been that long already?)

Quinn nodded, chewing on her apple and glancing over to where the Cheerios sat. "Would you ever sit over there with me?"

"Would they even let me?" Rachel gave a concerned glance at the Cheerio table.

"If you're with me, yes."

"If you want me to."

The look Quinn gave her in response was enough to stop Rachel's heart. She blushed a little bit and let her gaze linger as if she were braver than she felt.

"You look at me so – "

Now it was the blonde's turn to blush. "Yeah, I – sorry."

All nervous smiles and darting gazes, the pair spent lunch this way, stumbling back into regular conversation as somewhere off-stage, a narrator was probably observing the fact that _something _indeed had changed that morning.

Arriving home that evening, all the intensity and awkwardness had fallen away and Quinn was busy filling Rachel in on a particularly bad Cheerio practice, the pair giving a happy set of "hellos" to Hiram and Leroy before disappearing to Rachel's bedroom.

They did their homework together, Rachel scooting closer each time Quinn asked for help or clarification. By the time they were finished with homework, the pair was arranged in a sort of pile. Quinn's head was resting against Rachel's stomach and Rachel's hand occasionally reached down to point something out, or run delicately over Quinn's blonde hair.

It seemed natural to be this close. It seemed as if this was how it had always been or was going to be. Quinn was shifting near Rachel's stomach, her arm shifting overhead and draping over Rachel's hips. Rachel sat up on her elbows, eyes noting the way Quinn had a pleased smile on her lips.

"Rachel," Quinn seemed not to say her name with any kind of intention, but the brunette felt her heart flutter a little. There seemed to be nothing to follow her name – as if Quinn saying her name was all that needed to be said.

"You – startle me sometimes."

"How?" Quinn's eyes opened and she turned her head, pressing her ear to Rachel's belly-button.

"I don't expect – this. You're just so affectionate with me," Rachel's voice dropped low and quiet out of nervousness. "And I like it," she almost didn't say this last part and it came out so quietly she wasn't sure that Quinn heard it at first. And then she felt fingers squeeze the cusp of her hip, a gentle nuzzle.

Quinn's voice was laden with sorrow, though, when she spoke. "I'm sorry for all I've done to you. I – "

"I forgave you a long time ago, Quinn."

The weight on the mattress shifted a little and Quinn got up, paced around a little bit before she sat at the end of the mattress. "Rachel you're – "

Everything. Nothing. Something? Anything, please. Rachel's senses pleaded for completion. Her body, however, seemed to move of its own accord and she was crawling to Quinn, suddenly and unexpectedly straddling Quinn's lap and wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck. It wasn't a sexual thing – at least not right now. She merely buried her face against Quinn's neck and pressed herself in the tightest embrace she was able. She felt Quinn's elbows graze against each respective hip as hands crawled up her back and clutched intimately. It didn't even matter to Rachel that she was straddling the prettiest girl in school – okay, maybe it mattered – but the feeling and intensity she got was what bowled her over.

Clutching to Quinn seemed the most natural thing in the world and yet the most spectacular turn of events she could ask for. She even pressed her thighs closer together so she could bear into the hug just a little bit more.

"Jesus," she heard Quinn breathe the word softly as if this, too, was overwhelming her. "You're going to kill me, Rachel," Quinn's voice was strained as if too overcome to speak as she normally would. "You're everything," this last whispered bit made emotion choke up in Rachel's throat.

She felt it, too. She felt that Quinn, this thing with Quinn, was growing quicker and larger than them both and it meant _everything. _

"Thank you," was all Rachel could strain out. Her fingers knotted in Quinn's hair, she sat up just far enough to press her forehead against Quinn's, her hands sifting upward to Quinn's temples, thumbs running the trail of Quinn's hairline.

Tears slipped from Quinn's eyes and Rachel pulled her gaze back slightly, putting an inch or two of space between their faces. She used the pads of her thumbs to redirect the tears, and then smiled at Quinn's tearful laugh. "What are you doing to me?" Quinn asked quietly. "This is just – "

"A little crazy?"

"Sometimes."

Rachel nodded in agreement. Her heart stopped and heat crawled up her throat when Quinn's hands dropped from her shoulderblades to her hips, grasping there in a way that seemed _almost _intimate. The brunette bit her bottom lip briefly in nervousness and her dark eyes flickered shut. "I think I should uh – "

Quinn's thumbs were absently drawing circles against Rachel's hips, where they were pressed.

Rachel's breath was a little uneven and her thoughts got cloudy; the contact built all kinds of heat into her system and suddenly she couldn't think what she was about to suggest. She only knew she didn't know if she was ready just _yet _to make that next step and do something crazy like kiss Quinn until neither of them could get a good, even breath.

"I should get off your lap," Rachel whispered softly, her fingers untangling carefully and smoothing Quinn's hair, fixing a strand or two before reluctantly standing and trying to compose herself. "And we should see about dinner."

Quinn seemed just a little bit dazed when she nodded, eyes following Rachel as she stood. There were certainly things they needed to examine. Rachel just didn't want to rush it too much, despite the rushing need in her system to take things just a little bit further than they had gone.

Quinn and Rachel were laying on the couch in the basement watching a movie on the big screen TV when Hiram had yelled down a 'goodnight' at them and chided them gently about making sure they were asleep at a reasonable time. Rachel was the little spoon at the moment, and she realized this was the first time they were consciously spooning. (They had woken up more than once in that position but they'd never started it in a conscious fashion.)

Like everything recently intimate, it felt normal. And Rachel found herself drowsily resting her head on the same pillow, not even paying attention to the movie but paying attention to the way Quinn had drawn their hands in front of them and knotted, unknotted, knotted their fingers as if watching the silhouette cat's cradle their fingers were playing.

"Why was I afraid of this?" Quinn murmured as if surprised by her own thoughts. "All those times – " she whispered. It was as if she wasn't aware Rachel was paying much attention to her words.

"Quinn," Rachel began. She wanted to warn the blonde – if they started down this road Rachel wouldn't be able to stop. She wouldn't be able to withdraw the feelings that would inevitably come pouring out the more time and the more intimacy they shared. It only came out as a helpless sound, a mild, under-the-breath whimper.

Maybe Quinn could read minds. Rachel would have to check up on that. "I won't hurt you. I'm not scared," Quinn's voice was nearer, her warm breath caressing the side of Rachel's ear.

"What about everyone else? What if they say something? If – I'm not going to be okay if you panic and stop – "

The blonde fell silent, their hands falling to Rachel's stomach, tangled again. "Maybe it won't be so bad if I have you."

"You already do," Rachel closed her eyes at this, emotion welling up in her throat and she ducked her head downward. It ached so much that tears seemed the most natural way to express it. "I think you already have."

And then there were lips against the back of Rachel's neck. Small, infinitely loving pecks covering each freckle, each small centimeter of space. Quinn's mouth on the back of Rachel's neck, across the very small hint of shoulder-skin where fingers pushed the fabric aside.

Rachel couldn't breathe very well but she felt shivers all over her skin. Every inch of her was suddenly electrified and she was sure there was some labored breathing happening from sheer nervousness. She let the kissing continue for a few more seconds before she shakingly shifted, rolling onto her back and finding the most intense hazel gaze staring down at her. "Please, just – try not to run away if you – if we do this, I won't be able to bear it if you disappear on me."

Quinn's warm lips were suddenly grazing her own, and Rachel's eyelids grew heavier and there was a great need to be _much _closer. The shorter of the pair wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and they were kissing. Oh goodness, were they kissing. Rachel's heart was about to be in a permanent state of irregularity with the way the rest of her body was reacting to Quinn's mouth.

The kiss was slow and hesitant to begin with, but soon – the instant Quinn whimpered – Rachel was pressing upward into the kiss and exploring, headily trailing her tongue over Quinn's bottom lip and taking it between her teeth momentarily. The blonde was totally undone by this, her fingers grasping at Rachel's shirt at that very moment.

Hormones cleared after a few moments and there came the emotion. Need and lust was suddenly replaced by the realization that both of them felt very intensely, very emotionally bonded. The kiss became a creature of a different sort. Rachel's lips were lingering just a little bit longer between breaths, eyebrows furrowed and throats knotting with emotion. Quinn seemed completely undone, her hands trembling just a little bit from the way it felt at Rachel's hips.

"I think I could love you," Quinn whispered as they realized the movie credits were rolling.

Rachel kissed her again, as slowly and lovingly as possible.

Unlike what maybe popular movies would have Rachel believe, the step they had taken a few weeks ago had not led to intense make-out sessions every time they lay in bed together. Although there were plenty of kisses, and at least a few more heavy make-out sessions, what happened more often was a lot of cuddling, hand-holding, and lingering looks in public. Sometimes linked arms, or if they felt they were alone _enough _at school, a brief squeeze of hands.

It was nice to have something that was just theirs. It was slow and steady, it wasn't rushed or driven by pure hormones. It was the culmination of a long-waiting relationship that was sort of inevitable. And it was two mature teenagers realizing they didn't _just _want to have sex. They wanted to build something together.

The moment their relationship took a more serious turn, it had been three weeks since the first time they'd kissed, and Quinn had found Rachel right after school and wrapped Rachel in the most emotionally charged hug they'd had in a few days.

Quinn's lips had brushed the shell of Rachel's ear and Rachel was trying to remind herself _not _to look at the people that were inevitably staring at the sudden display of affection. She wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn and closed her eyes at the feeling of those familiar lips near her ear.

"Is it okay if I do love you? If – if I think this is something that's going to just get bigger and more serious?" Quinn seemed uncertain, didn't pull out of the hug to ask this. Her whisper remained where it was and Rachel nodded her head against Quinn's shoulder.

"It's okay, Quinn," she comforted. "I think – I think you're right."

"I love you, Rachel."

The words caused Rachel to stop breathing for a few brief seconds. "I love you," her own voice sounded full of quiet surprise.

Quinn pulled away from the hug gently, her fingers running over Rachel's jaw. And regardless of who saw, much to Rachel's surprise, she brushed her lips against Rachel's and kissed her as lovingly as she ever did when they were alone. Rachel's eyes fluttered shut; she momentarily forgot where they were until she heard a muffled "holy shit" from afar – Puck's voice.

Quinn kissed her without caring who saw. They were in the middle of a now crowded hallway and she was kissing the prettiest girl in school.

She pulled away from the kiss as it ended, smiling, eyes full of tears. And the smile Quinn gave her was more than enough comfort, despite the mixed reaction from the crowd near them. "Wow," Rachel whispered. "You just did that."

"I did."

And then she did it again, more briefly this time, but with just as much affection as the first one.

Santana won prom queen their senior year, but by that time Quinn and Rachel had been hot contenders for Queen and Queen. Brittany had been crowned king and proudly donned the robe. They had their first dance and Rachel had bounced for joy when they shared a brief kiss. Beside her, Quinn was wearing a dress that complimented her own and holding her hand tightly. Quinn seemed to only have eyes for Rachel most of the time, and whenever Rachel glanced in her direction they were suddenly both lost in a gaze.

They shared a dance together once everyone else filtered out to the floor, swaying carelessly together. Rachel breathed in Quinn's perfume as they danced.

"I'm in love with you," Quinn admitted when their foreheads pressed together during the dance, eyes searching Rachel's. Rachel was surprised after all this time that Quinn could still have doubts about Rachel's reaction. The shorter of the pair leaned upward and pressed her lips to Quinn's, kissed her passionately.

"I'm in love with you, my dear Quinn."

In the fall, they were to move into a student apartment in New York. And as Rachel danced, she felt that brilliant future coming on and felt like the luckiest girl in the world. She'd be living with Quinn, though admittedly the better half of the last year Quinn had essentially been living with the Berry's.

"You're a life-saver, Rachel. I hope you know that."

That night, all that time ago, and Quinn had showed up on her doorstep. The rest of the story wrote itself. Rachel leaned upward once more and kissed the girl she loved, grateful for the strange things that brought people closer.


End file.
